


Guess you gotta run sometimes

by judgementdays (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Uni AU, harry's a hipster, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:47:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/judgementdays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Then let's start over. I'm- oops," Curly says as he takes a step forward, tripping over his own feet and basically falling onto him.</p><p>"Hi, oops," Louis says, amused, because he can't help himself.</p><p>or</p><p>Harry's a hipster and Louis' in uni. It's not A Thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guess you gotta run sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> yooo!!!!
> 
> so i know i know i've promised so many things and this is not any of those but i got inspired by harry and gemma riding bikes last night, so. here's this
> 
> i hope you all enjoy, and, as always, dedicated to my cuties. you know who you are
> 
> "and i know i hurt you, but i can't confesses, is that blood or wine stain on your wedding dress?"

It's not A Thing.

Louis promises it's not A Thing. Because A Thing would mean he's addicted to it, and he's not. It's just, when he sees this group of people walking down the street, he thrives to be apart of them, to feel like he belongs somewhere that isn't just his family. And the group seems like their home is each other, like they're each other's whole worlds and the thought makes him feel so small in a world of things so big.

At first, Louis suspects it's a gang. But after watching them with ice cream cones balanced on top of their noses and clapping like seals, he realizes it's just a group of hipsters.

Really cool and totally not hot hipsters.

And then there's _the one_ who is always in the middle of the group, grinning like mad with these goddamn dimples and a fedora sat on top of his wild curls. He's always wearing a ripped plaid shirt and skinny jeans and Louis' not sure if he'd rather punch or kiss him.

(With every day that passes on, he realizes it's the latter.)

And, like, all of them are attractive and it's not like Louis' actively looking for them every night, but they always walk down the same street, in the same clothes with the same smiles on their faces. Some look to be thirty, others, like the boy, around nineteen.

Every time he sees them he gets a rush of affection and lonesomeness melt through him, how he's been wasting his life away studying at some uni he doesn't even want to go to to get a job he doesn't even want.

But then the group will pass his window and be out of sight and Louis will continue to stuff his face into his book and try not to commit murder.

It decidedly becomes A Thing when Louis runs out of milk at one in the morning on Wednesday night. It's not a big deal, there's a gas station across the way, so he takes his phone and wallet and goes on his way.

When he enters the little handy mart, though, he spots them, and his stomach does a flip, then a dive, and then drops to the bottom of his stomach.

They're all standing in the back with cartons of milk on their heads, laughing like it's the funniest thing ever. Curly's got his phone out and is taking a picture, and fuck, he has a deep laugh. It makes Louis' stomach rumble with delight.

He carefully makes his way down the aisle to where the group is, praying to go unnoticed, but luck isn't in his favor tonight, as it seems.

"Hello!" A deep voice says from his side view, and Louis tries not to wince as he turns his head to face him. It's Curly.

"I'm getting milk," Louis tells him, as if the fact he wasn't reaching for the milk wasn't obvious. Curly nods, looking very serious.

"Milk's very important. You need three glasses of it a day to keep growing," Curly tells him, and everyone laughs. Louis narrows his eyes.

"Was that an insult to my height?" Louis asks, arching an eyebrow, "Because I'll have you know, there are tons of guys I know who are 5'8 and just because there's people like you who are, like, fourteen feet tall or whatever, doesn't mean you should go off and insult people for it. God," Louis huffs, and really, he's not sure what he's doing. He grabs his milk and stomps away, trying to ignore the fact Curly looked genuinely upset about the encounter.

He pays for his milk and turns around to find Curly staring at him, eyes wide like he's looking at the stars. Louis glares at him, mumbles, "fucking hipster," under his breath and leaves the store, silently hoping all of those assholes were staring at his ass on his way out.

~

So, like. Louis goes home and drinks his milk and pouts because he made a fool out of himself in front of a cute boy, just like he does with every other attractive boy he comes close to. He's not sure why he does this to himself, but he hates it. It's like his brain just shuts off when he gets near someone he might have a chance with, and he's starting to worry he'll be alone forever.

But that doesn't matter right now, because when he peaks out his window he sees the group walking down the street, back to their happy smiles and laughs, except for Curly, who still looks like he got punched in the throat.

Which, well. That wasn't his intention. He had wanted to ride his dick, not hurt his feelings. But then they were out of view and he lays down instead, bringing the blankets up to his chin in hopes he might strangle himself. Maybe it's a bit morbid but then he'd get a second chance with Curly in Hell.

The next few days go by agonizingly slow, maybe because of two things.

One; the group hasn't walked past his street since the day at the gas station.

Two; okay, so there's no second reason, but, still.

He wants to run off and find them and kiss Curly raw but then he remembers that he was an asshole to him and all courage he has disappears back under his skin.

And when he lays alone at night at two in the morning, staring up at his ceiling, he realizes he misses someone he's hardly even met.

~

It's a Tuesday when Louis speaks to him again.

He was walking off campus, books to his chest and glasses on, when he sees the group walking past. Same ripped clothes, same dirty hairstyles. It's odd seeing them back to back with all of Louis' snotty school mates, and when the group freezes and turns around, Louis thinks for a moment they don't see him.

And then Curly smiles.

Except smile is sort of an understatement because his lips take up his whole face and he's got these dimples on his left cheek. His hair is styled in a quiff of some sort, tied back by a bandanna, and he jogs over to him with a look of determination.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," Curly exclaims loudly, and some people turn around to glare at him, because he looks dirty and kind of homeless, but Louis ignores them and stares up at Curly as the other boy speaks. "Wow. I just wanted to say I'm sincerely sorry. I didn't mean to bash on your height. I looked it up, and you're right; 5'8 is the average height for a male," Curly pulls out his phone, then, and shows him the Wikipedia page that says so.

"Anyway," Curly continues, clearing his throat, "I thought I'd inform you that I'm 6'2, not fourteen feet tall, just in case you ever got confused," Curly says, and he sounds serious, like he thinks Louis _actually_ thought he was fourteen feet tall, then he's grinning again, eyes shining and Louis swears they're turning different shades.

"I was the asshole to you," Louis says slowly, blinking up at him, "And now you're apologizing to me. I don't understand," Louis glances over at Curly's group, who are all watching with intent eyes. It makes him want to scoff.

"I made you upset, though," Curly frowns, and again, there was the look of genuine sadness that Louis was causing him. Jesus.

"And I made you upset," Louis reminds him. At that, Curly stares at him, looking like he's in deep thought, before reaching out to shake his hand.

"Then let's start over. I'm- oops," Curly says as he takes a step forward, tripping over his own feet and basically falling onto him.

"Hi, oops," Louis says, amused, because he can't help himself.

Curly laughs at that, a bright sound that rings in Louis' ears and makes his heart grow twenty sizes. "Harry. My name is Harry," Curly, or Harry, finishes, and it's Louis' turn to smile up at him.

"Louis," he says back easily, and when Harry reaches forward to push his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose, it feels a bit like a promise.

~

Things start to get better after that.

Louis stops watching longingly from his window as the group passes by and starts pushing his books aside and joining them. And at first, it's awkward and new but Harry looks at him like he's his favorite record and Louis' heart never settles down when he's beside him.

For a few weeks, he's like a groupie. He doesn't chug gallons of orange juice with Harry and Ben, or ride bikes up and down the empty street with Gemma and Lou, but he watches. He watches and he learns and he feels apart of something, for once in his life, even if he's not really a part of it.

Most importantly, though, he slowly becomes part of Harry. Or Maybe Harry was becoming part of him. Either way, Louis spends every night learning everything about him, from his first word to his last girlfriend.

And it's like, he's so infatuated with him. How he smiles and laughs and is just a good person. He apologizes when he hurts someones feelings and cries over dead animals and most nights Louis' trying to decide if he'd rather tuck him in to bed or get fucked by him senseless.

The group, who Louis quickly learns the names of, tease them and ask when the wedding is, but Harry never really does anything other than just laugh along or squeeze Louis' shoulder or waist, where ever his arm has gone to resting that night.

On late nights, after extreme sledding with cardboard boxes and McDonald's lunch trays, or playing with fire in the woods, Harry walks him home and tell each other bad jokes until they cry of laughter. Sometimes, their hands loosely tangle together, but neither ever talk about it.

"We're going to a drive in on Friday," Harry mentions casually while he's walking Louis back to his apartment on a Monday night. Their hands keep brushing and Louis keeps smiling and Harry keeps looking at him with  _that_  look and he feels blissful. "I think you'd like it. Playing Grease," he adds, looking down at him.

"I really wanna go," Louis sighs, closing his eyes as he thinks about all the tests coming up in the next week he's hardly studied for, that he knows he has to pass if he wants to stay in uni, "But I've gotta study. Exams are coming up."

Harry frowns, and looks pretty disappointed, but doesn't press any further. They finish the walk in silence, the moon serving as a spotlight on the dark street.

"Well, I'll see you soon, then," Louis says when they reach his apartment, and before he can even turn around and enter, Harry's handing him a tiny tape. He turns it over in his hand and smiles, looking up at him.

"What's this?" He asks, turning the tape back over to the front to read the writing. _Even when I tried not to think about you, I thought about you_.

"It's a mix tape," Harry says, rubbing the back of his neck as he bites his lip, "I mean, I know they're kind of outdated and whatever, but I just. These songs remind me of you, is all," Harry finishes, and Louis smiles so wide his cheeks start to ache.

"It's lovely, Harry, thank you," Louis thanks him with a grin, reaching up to hug him. Instead of a hug, though, Harry leans down further, meets him halfway, and kisses him instead.

It's sudden, but not a bad kind of a sudden. It's the sort of sudden that makes Louis feel like he can slay a dragon or run a marathon, that moment of knowing you might fail, but you jump anyway.

Harry's lips are plump and feel almost rough against Louis' own, though the kiss is innocent in whole. Louis tiptoes a little for better access, though he'd deny it if anyone ever asks. It's over too soon for Louis' liking, and when Harry pulls away, he's smiling. They both are, but, well.

"I'll see you soon," Harry repeats himself, biting his lip with that dumb, dorky smile on his lips.

"I'll see you soon," Louis replies, breathless, and Harry beams down at him once again before he's turning around and leaving, hopping down the front steps before Louis can even blink.

Right before he's out of Louis' view, he turns around and waves.

Louis' too entranced to wave back.

~

Tueday, Wednesday and Thursday come and go without much problem.

Louis doesn't go out and join the group when they come by because, well, they don't walk by. He doesn't dwell on it, of course, and throws himself into studying, weeks worth of knowledge that he shoves into his head so hard he feels like he's going to explode.

He listens to the mix tape on repeat and sings along to all the songs, despite not knowing their titles or who even sings them. They're slow and meaningful and Louis loves them, loves how lyrics so meaningful and personal can remind Harry of him.

He hangs out with his old friends, too, Niall Liam and Zayn, on Thursday night and tell them about Harry, play them the mix tape, and they laugh and tell Louis he's fallen way over his head.

He thinks he might be living in a movie, things are going so perfectly alright.

But nothing lasts forever, he supposes, not even his very best of days.

On Friday, the bad luck begins as soon as he wakes up.

It starts with sleeping through his alarm, and not being able to find his jumper. He doesn't get to eat breakfast and ends up tripping over his feet to make it to his first class on time. His professor yells at him and his glasses get stepped on when he drops his things in the hallway and he curses the man who ever said Friday's were great.

He makes it home alive, hardly, and collapses on his bed in defeat.

"Fuck you, Friday," he mumbles to himself, and that's when the door knocks. Which, weird. He hardly ever gets a visitor. He pushes himself off his bed, mood still dreary, as he opens the door, eyebrows raising when he finds Lou standing there.

"Hi, love," Lou says, and she seems sad, almost, but also fond.

"Hi," Louis says back slowly, not wanting to be rude, but they had never really talked. "Did Harry not tell you? I can't make it to the drive in," Louis tells her, figuring that's why she was here, to drive with him to the movie. 

Lou laughs, and smiles bright at him. "No, no, Harry told me. I'm just taking you to surprise him, should of seen how bummed out he was this whole week," Lou sighs and tsks her tongue before looking back to him. "Just for an hour, then I promise you can go back," Lou adds, sounding desperate, and well, hearing that Harry was sad about him sort of made him want to go, despite the pile of books waiting for him on his bed.

He doesn't even get to finish his nod when Lou squeals and claps her hands together, putting both of her hands on Louis' shoulders to guide him back into the apartment. "First things first, getting rid of those clothes, sweetie," she says, and Louis wants to say she has no place to talk fashion when she's basically wearing a rug, but he doesn't comment.

Lou, as it turns out, is a fashionista at heart. Louis doesn't have much besides appropriate clothes to wear to uni, but Lou digs through his closet and creates an outfit for him to wear. A plain white shirt with black jeans rolled up at the cuffs and converse shoes, something Louis didn't even know he had.

"I look like a Greaser," Louis tells her worriedly, and as much as he adores the movie, he doesn't have a desire to be in it, thank you very much.

Lou laughs, and it's bright like Harry's, but it's not really the same. "Put this on, love," she says while handing him something from her bulky bag. It's a jean jacket. He raises an eyebrow.

"It's Harry's, but I've done my research, and you look great in jean jackets," Lou tells him, and well, he has no choice but to grab the jacket and slip it on. He wants to ask where this research is coming from, but he doesn't want to be annoying.

The jacket looks a bit ridiculous on him, but it's winter so he figures wearing something big won't be too bad. After letting Lou fix his hair as well, she declares him ready and drags him out of the apartment, not even letting him grab his wallet or phone on the way out.

~

Lou calls a cab and they small talk their way to the drive in theater, his hands folded awkwardly in his lap. He feels out of place without his glasses or even his contacts in, and though he likes the outfit Lou has picked out, it's just not something he'd really wear.

"You look perfect, darling, don't even worry about it," Lou tells him before they get out, and Louis realizes it's her motherly instinct to compliment everything everyone does, basically, so maybe her judgement wasn't something he should be trusting.

Louis takes a deep breath and follows her out of the car, anyway though, all the way to the back of the theater where a few Jeeps are. He sees Ben and Gemma and Nick who all smile at him warmly and then he sees Harry.

He's not sure what the best way to describe heart break is. He thinks it's something like someone hitting you with a baseball bat, or getting shards of glass thrown at you. The suddenness of Monday night where he felt invincible comes crashing down when he sees Harry with a girl.

She's blonde and fits under his arm so well, they're probably the same height. She's laughing at something Harry said, which is a bit ridiculous because Harry tells the dumbest jokes ever, and then Harry leans in and kisses her and Louis feels angry, furious tears in his eyes.

He doesn't want to watch anymore, though, so he turns his back towards them, sucks in a deep breath, and with the minimal amount of pride he has left, storms away.

No one goes after him, and he figures it's for the better.

~

He ends up walking home, which was a bad idea. He's crying and cursing and stumbling over his feet, anyone passing by probably thinks he's a creep, but he doesn't care, hardly knows what to feel.

This was Harry. Harry who apologizes to his chicken nuggets before eating them, who smiles at him like he doesn't have a flaw and he feels so played and stupid and lied too that by the time he stumbles into his apartment he's a complete mess.

He plays Harry's stupid mix tape and crawls under the blankets to hide away from the world, willing himself to fall asleep so that he can finally say the day is over.

~

Since it's the weekend, Louis doesn't get out of bed. He listens to the tape on repeat and stays tucked away under his covers where he's safe from dumb curly haired boys.

Zayn Niall and Liam come over on Sunday to see if he's alive and Louis tells them the story while holding back tears.

"It'll be okay," Liam coos, stroking his hair.

"He's an idiot, Lou, you're better than him," Zayn sighs, squeezing his hand.

"I'll beat him up for you," Niall offers, and it's enough to make him crack a smile.

"I just wanna forget about him," Louis whispers, closing his eyes, and so they spend the day watching dumb T.v shows but they all remind him of Harry so it's no use, really.

Harry and him never exchanged phone numbers so there's no way they'd ever contact each other, unless it was by running into each other on the street. Niall still promises to beat him up if sees him on the streets, but Louis doubts he will.

On his first day out of bed, he feels better. He gets dressed and turns off the tape for the first time in 48 hours and cleans himself off. He goes to his classes and finishes up his exams and he tries not to think about Harry and the blonde girl probably off eloping or whatever.

It's a Thursday when Louis runs out of apple juice.

He's a 21 year old man and isn't afraid to admit he drinks apple juice quickly, sue him. He bundles up and grabs his wallet before leaving to the gas station, and it's the first time in two days he hasn't thought about Harry once, which of cours he ruined the streak by thinking about him, but, well.

It's still sort of relaxing, almost, knowing he wasn't constantly running through his mind all day.

That changes, of course, when he sees a group at the back of the mart and he wants to hit himself with a feeling of deja vu. This time, though, the second he walks in, he feels Harry's eyes on him and he tries to ignore how hard is heart is pounding.

He takes a deep breath and gathers his pride before walking past the group to the juice section. He doesn't see the blonde girl, but that doesn't mean she's not part of the clique now.

He's reaching in to grab the juice when he hears Harry's voice.

"Louis," he says, and it's strained and rough, like he hasn't slept in weeks. Louis freezes, hand midway to the juice, not turning around.

"What," Louis manages to mumble, hoping he sounds stronger, better than Harry does at that moment. He knows he doesn't.

"I'm sorry," Harry starts, but Louis cuts him off right away, turning around to face him, eyes dangerously angry. 

"Don't. Fucking. Start with the apologies," Louis warns, taking a step back from Harry, despite his heart aching, "You're not sorry," Louis whispers, and he knows he doesn't sound so strong anymore. 

Harry bites his lip and looks down, looking like he isn't sure what to say.

"Just. Just leave me alone," Louis mumbles, and thankfully, Harry grants his wish. He takes a few steps back and watches as Louis grabs the juice and pays for it at the front of the store, just a few feet away from him but feeling like he's on another planet.

He feels as though they've just come full circle, and he's not sure if he's happy for that or not.

He walks home feeling lonely and bitter, and he's hardly home for ten minutes when he hears a knock on the door.

"No, Zayn, you didn't leave your jacket here," Louis sighs as he opens it, his body freezing when he sees it's Harry.

"Hi, Lou," Harry says, folding his hands in front of him, like he's getting ready for Louis to yell at him.

"Didn't I say to leave me alone?" Louis asks, exasperated, getting ready to close the door when Harry jumps forward a bit, stopping him.

"Please just listen," Harry chokes out, placing a hand on the door to stop him from shutting it even more, "I'm sorry. I know you don't want an apology but I'm sorry, that's all I can say. Ben and Nick saw you with another boy and convinced me to take her out to the movies instead of you and I didn't want to, but she was just there and I thought you had given up on us, too, whatever we were, whatever we are, but I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, I swear. I'm sorry," Harry rambles, and Louis watches his confidence go from at the top of the world to scared and meek.

Louis' silent as he stares up at him, like he's waiting for more. Harry's the one who looks exasperated next.

"You shut everyone out who is ever close to finding out who you really are, and I know that even if I hadn't been there with her, you still would of turned around and walked away," Harry whispers, looking pained.

Louis knows it's the truth, though so he says nothing.

He's wordless for a while, staring at the street behind where Harry was standing. He knows Harry's waiting for a response, and will probably leave soon, but he's thinking and deciding and after he's sure he can hear Harry sigh of defeat, he turns to face him, tiptoe, and kiss him.

It's almost identical to the one they shared a few weeks before, though this time Louis feels like fireworks are exploding in his brain, and when Harry grabs his waist to pull him closer, they only go off louder.

"Even when I tried not to think about you, I thought about you," Harry whispers against his lips, and if Louis mumbles a muffled, "hipster," between kisses, then only he and Harry would have to know.

Louis decides almost instantly after they pull apart that he doesn't mind if this is A Thing.

**Author's Note:**

> don't forget to tell me if you liked/disliked pals!!! have a great morning/afternoon/night !!!
> 
> tumblr: judgementdays
> 
> ~oh, love.   
> you mustn't  
> understand-  
> the end? it's only  
> just the beginning~


End file.
